Frozen Air, Melting Heart
by Rainbow Username
Summary: Follow our favorite barber and baker, Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd, as the month of December approaches. Mrs. Lovett is determined to make the Christmas spirit cheer up broody Mr.T...Somehow...after all, Christmas is her favorite time of the year. 25 days of a Sweeney Todd Christmas! Eventual SWEENETT/TODDVETT! Fluffy starts in chap 4! Rated T for language content and just to be safe
1. December 1st

_**Frozen Air, Melting Heart**_

_**December 1st  
**_

"MISTA' TODD!" an unbalanced Mrs. Lovett shouted excitedly as she attempted to dash up the stairs to the demon barber's parlor. The frozen ice coating each step made this quite difficult, yet she somehow managed to make it anyway. "MISTA' T! CAN YAH 'EAR ME?" she rammed her fist against the door numerous times before a _very_ grumpy Sweeney Todd whisked it open.

He was not pleased to be greeted by his landlady foolishly bundled in a heavy scarf and jacket for no apparent reason at his doorstep... and this early in the morning? Sweeney may not sleep often, but he needed the pacing time nonetheless. "MISTA' TODD!" Eleanor squealed in his face, much to the irritation of his aching head.

"Wot in the bloody-" he began to yell, but was quickly stopped as Mrs. Lovett snatched his collar and pointed towards the sky.

"Look!" she whispered, grinning ear to ear as her breath formed a cloudy wisp in the chilled air. Sweeney took a look outside for the first time this morning and gasped quietly at the sight.

Indeed, it was quite a spectacular scene to behold. Small ice crystals danced in the air, drifting down in a never-ending shower of soft flakes. The normally dark and dreadful homes and roads of Fleet Street were coated in a blanket of untouched snow, somehow making the air feel lighter and easier to breathe. To Sweeney's astonishment, even the sky was a brilliant shade of a clean, fresh white, brightening every nook and cranny of the city beyond. The smoke of the various chimneys quickly dissipated into the silent air, and there was not a soul walking by, making the sight all the more incredible.

"It's SNOWING, Mista' Todd!" Mrs. Lovett whispered to him once more, "It 'asn't snowed heya in London fo' YEAS!" her gloved hand squeezed his slightly warm shoulder in excitement. "Jus' look at it, Mista' T!"

"I…I am..." was all Sweeney could mutter in response, still trying to capture all the priceless beauty before him. He was suddenly reminded of times before his imprisonment in Australia, times when the snow would fall before him and his small family. Oh, how Lucy's wheat-yellow hair would shine as it contrasted against the jealous whiteness of the snow! Benjamin was never affected by the cold when he was with his Lucy…she was the only one who could make him warm inside during chilly weather… Sweeney felt his chest constrict at his the realization that his memories of the past were just that: memories. Things that could never be…

"Isn't it amazin', Mista' Todd?" Mrs. Lovett broke the brief silence, smiling all the more.

"Lucy…Lucy loved the snow…" Sweeney whispered deep in thought and pain, still staring into the sky and watching the mesmerizing icy flecks fall.

Mrs. Lovett's face faltered slightly at the mentioning of 'beloved' Lucy, but her smile quickly recovered, "Who _don't_ love snow, Mista' T? An' we 'aven't 'ad it in so long…an' it's _nevah_ been like this befoa…" she noted, looking upwards herself.

"No….Nevah…like this…" he shook his head lightly in agreement, still under the snow's hypnotic spell…

They both just stood there in silence, beholding the sight before them, drinking in the rare beauty and peacefulness that settled over the normally hellish Fleet Street. Suddenly the barber shuddered in his doorway from the bitter cold, now piercing through his light white shirt and black vest. Mrs. Lovett quickly took notice. "Oh deah, come on down and we'll get yah all toasty an' warm. I got us a fiah goin' an' a nice cup a' tea watin' for ya, love." She hooked her arm around Sweeney's (much to his displeasure) and guided him outside the doorframe, breaking Sweeney's snow trance. Mrs. Lovett looked into his eyes for the first time today, noticing how dark and deep they seemed against the blank snow. She began to shudder herself when his tantalizing gaze tilted down to meet her own. "Come, love…" she encouraged, pulling his arm towards the hazardous stairs as the door squealed shut.

Quietly, Mrs. Lovett led the way, careful to take one step at a time on the icy wooden steps so as not to cause Sweeney to slip. When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, they were immediately greeted with the pelting of snowballs from behind the nearby fence. Luckily, no snowballs collided with Sweeney, much to Mrs. Lovett's relief. She, on the other hand, had taken the entire attack, the evidence showing like cream polka dots on her fern green coat. "Ow!" she squeaked, putting her free arm in front of her in defense as another snowball shower began. "Who's theah?" she smiled as three young boys around the ages of ten or so appeared from behind the fence. They threw their remaining ammo and shuffled away, calling "'Appy 'Oliday's, Miss!" over their shoulders. Sweeney Todd groaned in annoyance. He never recalled innocent Johanna doing something so…irritating…

"Silly lit'uhle nits…" Eleanor tsked lightly, brushing as much snow off her favorite green winter dress as possible. She quickly opened the door to the shop and hustled in with Sweeney right behind her as she hung up her coat. The crisp, chilled air in the kitchen smelled of evergreens and berries, the barber noticed as he rested his hands on the kitchen island. Quite different from the usual scent of fresh meat pies and gin, for sure.

"Can yah believe Chris'mas is righ' roun' tha corna' Mista' T?" Mrs. Lovett shook her head as she set the tea kettle on the stove. To her, it seemed as though her time with Sweeney had been flying by. Why, just today she realized it was the first of December! Her favorite month of the year, it was. Everyone in cheery moods, days of giving and loving, and her birthday, to top it all off.

"Indeed…" Sweeney neutrally replied. He was becoming lost in thought again, staring outside at the falling snow once more. He had drowned out Mrs. Lovett's voice before he even noticed she was still talking to him. Instead, the sounds of Lucy singing Christmas carols teasingly filled his ears.

"I don't see why yah 'ave to be so negative 'bout Chris'mas, Mista' Todd…"the baker continued, resting her head in one hand on the island as well. "It don't 'ave to be SO bad…I mean…with someone ta share it with this yeah…I don't rememba' the last time I had company with meh durin' these cold months…" she absentmindedly poked a lump of dough with her chopping knife. The darkness of the shop gave it a haunting glow. "Albert neva' really got inta Chris'mas eitha, though…"

"Hmm…" Sweeney grunted, obviously ignoring the outside world for the moment. However, his 'acknowledgement' was enough to convince Eleanor to continue.

" 'E neva' really got inta tha spirit a things, yah know? Was all 'bout the food for 'em, it was…'E nevah really realized jus' how fortunate 'e was to be livin' the way 'e did…'Course e'ry time I tried to tell 'em this 'e just wen' on 'bout how _**I **_was tha one who 'oughta be thankful for 'is company…" her eyebrows knitted in a bit of frustration. "But wheneva' I told 'im so, 'e wouldn't listen…" she shuddered at the harsh memories of what Albert would do when she frustrated and confused him like that… "E'ry Chris'mas was lonely…Albert nevah really was theah wit meh." She shoved the knife into the dough and planted her head in her other hand. "Maybeh this yeah could be diff'ren'…righ'?"

"Of course…" came the monotone reply.

"Mista' T?" Eleanor stood and approached the motionless barber with her arms crossed. "Mista' T?" she tried again.

"Hmm…" Sweeney's dark eyes were practically glued to white window. Mrs. Lovett stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

"Mista' T? You list'nen ta meh?"

"Wot?" the barber blinked, his thoughts shattering as his landlady cocked her head at him. He couldn't really care less about what was going on around him, but the screaming tea kettle brought him back into agonizing reality.

"You 'aven't been listenin' ta meh, 'ave ya?" the baker spat in agitation. "Wot in the bloody 'ell do I 'ave ta do ta do ta make ya at least know I'm 'ere?" Sweeney just watched as Mrs. Lovett clomped over to the stove, practically fuming more than the kettle itself as she snatched the handle and heatedly poured two cups of steaming tea. She slid him a teacup and stormed off with her own into the booth across the room. Sweeney's eyebrows knitted as he slowly strutted to the table and sat across from flustered baker. She glared at him for a split second before lifting her tea to her lips.

The demon barber stared at his landlady, seemingly frozen in place. He couldn't help but study how her facial expression changed after her second sip of tea. It looked as though it melted from frustration to relaxation in a mere few seconds. He took a steady sip himself, wondering if she knew how easily he could read her emotions at the moment. Eleanor's eyes slowly lifted from the table to Sweeney's. She sighed deeply. "Mista' T…?" she gently asked. "I'm sorry, love…" her words seemed almost…fragile, to Sweeney, as they hung in the air for minutes before his reply.

"For wot?"

"…For yellin'…and blamin' ya when I be the one to rattle on an' annoy ya so much…" she softly replied. Her hands closed around her cup, highlighting her pale, cold hands.

As much as Sweeney hated to admit it, (and he REALLY did hate it) he didn't necessarily mind the baker's constant chatter. It gave him a sense of comfort, actually…it was proof he wasn't _completely_ alone in his miserable life. There was at least one person who cared, even if that person wouldn't stop talking. If he dared to look deep down inside of himself, Sweeney would find he even enjoyed Eleanor's conversation. However, today the barber certainly did not want to attempt such dangerous exploring…he thought it would be easier to keep everything as 'normal' as possible.

"Don't be…" he simply said, looking her in the eyes for a moment. Her rich pools of chocolate brown glinted back with a look of relief and loving.

Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Mista' Todd, ya too good ta me, ya know that?" the corners of her lips tilted upwards. "If ya don't wan'a make a big deal outta Chris'mas, that's fine…But…there's at leas' one…thing I wanna 'ave this yeah…"

Sweeney was relieved himself for her understanding of his feelings towards the holiday. "Wot is it." He stated, rather than asked, and raised an eyebrow in anticipation for the answer to come from the now grinning woman.

"A tree…"


	2. December 1st afternoon

_**Hello!  
**_

_**Big thanks to ELIXIR30 for reviewing, you made my evening! This chapter is for you!  
**_

_**Hope you're enjoying!  
**_

_**Frozen Air, Melting Heart **_

_**December 1st (afternoon)  
**_

"A… tree…?" Sweeney lifted his cup to his lips, sipping his tea in both confusion and curiosity at the baker's odd request.

"Yup…" Mrs. Lovett chirped back, resting her chin on the palm of her right hand. " 'Opefully one tha' looks nice…if all the nice one's 'aven't been taken already… 'tis pret-ey late ta be findin' one, but it's still manageable…"

"Why would you want a tree, Mrs. Lovett?" The confused barber squinted his eyes as he swished what little was left of the tea.

Mrs. Lovett's jaw dropped in shock. She blinked her widened eyes and stood up abruptly. "MISTA' T!" she shouted, waving her arms in the air dramatically, " DONTYA REMEMBA' DECORATIN' CHRIS'MAS TREES?"

Sweeney was a bit taken aback by her theatrical reaction and blinked several times before replying in monotone "Yes…of course…".

Although he hadn't really taken the time to think on this aspect of Christmas, Sweeney did indeed recall dressing fresh pine trees with extravagant decorations with his very pregnant Lucy. However these memories tended to be blurry and vague, for he only celebrated a few before his cruel punishment… he only seemed to have remembered the year when he and Lucy were getting close to Johanna's birth. He did recall Mrs. Lovett and Albert being there, and all of them having the most heartwarming conversations over a deliciously prepared dinner. (Mrs. Lovett's doing, no doubt.)

"Well I would 'ope so, Mista' Todd! I remeba' those times… O' course weh couldn't decorate one like weh did then, wit' e'ryone… but…we could 'ave one ourselves and still 'ave a nice time, righ'? It'll be nice to decorate one again…maybeh you could 'elp Toby put the star on top." She smiled fondly at the hopeful dream, casting a quick glance at the young boy sleeping next to an empty bottle of gin in the parlor. The baker crossed her arms and cocked her head in thought as she turned her gaze and stared at Sweeney with longing chestnut eyes.

"Who says I wish to take part in this…decorating…" Sweeney sneered, finishing his tea and setting down the cup on the table with a faint *clunk*.

Mrs. Lovett felt as though his sharp words were one of her chopping knives suddenly piercing straight through her chest and lodging itself into her heart. After all, what fun was beautifying a tree without the beauty of her barber doing the same next to her? His disagreement seemed to have scratched away pieces of her Christmas fantasies.

"No…one...I suppose…" she managed to choke out, obviously hurt. Sweeney sensed a sudden gut feeling himself, one he hadn't felt for years: guilt. In fact, the barber could have sworn he couldn't feel anything other than hatred or hints of satisfaction (which only occurred when thoughts of mutilating the judge crossed his mind), let alone guilt or any other trait relating to _caring about someone_.

"We can still get one…a tree…today, if yeh like…" he quickly responded, not even realizing what he was saying before it was too late.

The baker's eyes lit up, as if her very soul was rejuvenated by his offer... "Oh, Mista' T! Thank yah, thank yah, thank yah!" she squealed, dashing to snatch her coat. "It'll only take a lit-elh time ta find one, an' I won't be too pickeh eitha!" her fiery curls flailed wildly as she attempted to tame them under her knitted hat.

"We're going out…now?" Sweeney sighed, not wanting to leave the privacy of the pie shop for the crowded streets of filthy London.

"Ya won't wanna do it any moah lata' than ya do now, righ'? Besides, it'll be fun!" Mrs. Lovett enthusiastically replied, walking over to him with his coat in one hand, and an unrecognizable object in the other. She helped him put his coat on and turned him to face her. "See 'ow pale ya'are in the cold?" Sweeney couldn't help but note that she was possibly even paler than he was. "Tha's why I made ya this…fo' the chilly weatha…" she explained, wrapping a scarf around his exposed neck.

The scarf was incredibly soft, made of a very fine material, and was knitted tightly with considerable effort and care. To top it all off, the color pattern was an intricate blend of black and white, which appealed greatly to the barber. _She…made…me this? _His eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment.

The baker took note of his facial expression, and her look instantly became one of worry. "Oh… Um…If ya don't like it, I can easily make ya 'notha one…or, or-" Now the barber was REALLY confused. How could she think he didn't like it? It was beautiful, especially in his eyes... I mean, she made him something out of her own kindness… for _him_! "You could borrow mine..,if ya wont to… or if ya don't wanna scarf at all-" she began taking the scarf off, but was stopped in the middle of her action when she felt Sweeney's cold hand grasp her wrist. She lightly gasped, hoping she didn't do something wrong to upset him.

"Wot are you talking about?" he whispered, staring intently into her eyes.

"You….your…you looked like…you weren't 'appy wit it…which is fine!" Mrs. Lovett nodded, wearing a concerned and confused look on her face.

"I…I _**do **_like it…very much." Sweeney raised an eyebrow, letting the words flow from his mouth naturally for once. "Thank you…you didn't need to do this for me…but I appreciate it, nonetheless… thank you." He sincerely finished, re-wrapping his scarf around his quickly warming neck.

Sweeney watched in amusement as his landlady's eyes widened and a grin plastered her brightening complexion. "Oh Mista' T, I'm so glad yah like it!" she beamed as she buttoned up her coat. "It'll keep the chills off yah, 'opefully! Don't want yah gettin' sick, now do we?" Inside, fireworks exploded in her stomach. She felt as though she were about to burst at the barber's words. It was rare to get him to express his feelings though words, and he had done so for her, and even thanked her…twice! "Ah yah ready?" she squeaked, opening the door pie shop door.

Sweeney merely nodded and together they strolled out into the now busy Fleet Street in search of a Christmas tree.


	3. December 1st Dusk

_**Hey there!**_

_**Big thanks to EleKat for reviewing, I am so glad you are enjoying the story! That's what it's for!**_

_**Anyway, I apologize for this chapter being a bit short, I'll try to make the next one longer!**_

_**Alright, enough chit-chat, enjoy!**_

_**Frozen Air, Melting Heart**_

_**December 1**__**st**__** dusk**_

"Hmmm….a bit stubby, ain't it?"

"Tha'll nevah fit in tha parlor, dearie…"

"Tha' one's too… prickly…"

Mrs. Lovett's reviews went on and on as the pair sifted through what felt like hundreds of fresh pine trees in a dense forest in the outskirts of London. *_"I won't be picky", eh?_ *Sweeney recalled as he gestured to yet another conifer, silently praying it was "the one".

The baker stared at the suggestion and brought her index finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Ah…well, tha' one's a lit-uhl lopsided, ya seeh?"

_*Good GOD…* _"Pick a tree, woman!" Sweeney yelled, throwing his arms into the air and glaring at Mrs. Lovett with breaking patience. His landlady backed up two feet and crossed her arms with a sigh. Truth be told, she saw multiple trees that would do just fine. She was just taking advantage of the time she was spending with her usually cooped-up tenant.

_*Oh well…_ *she sighed again, *_I 'ad me time…while it lasted…*_"Alrigh', alrigh' alrigh'! 'Ooowwww abouuuwww…. Tha' one!" she pointed, dashing past a slightly surprised Sweeney Todd. Before he knew it, she disappeared into the dense forest, giggling like a child playing hide and seek. "It's ovah here, love! Come on!" *_Daft woman…* _The barber quickly followed the sounds of her boots clomping in between the trees, finding he was much more agile than he had previously thought. Why exactly he felt it necessary not to lose her, he didn't know for sure, and he was all the more confused at the warm, fuzzy feeling (something he recalled he felt when he saw Lucy) growing in the pit where his heart would be. It occurred to him that he usually didn't care at all of what the baker did with herself. Hell, she could get mauled by a bear in this forest and he probably wouldn't care in the slightest, so why does she matter at this point? _*Probably because I need her to get to the judge...* _He attempted to convince himself, _*I simply cannot afford to lose her at this point in time* _In all honesty, it didn't destroy the warm feeling in his chest at the thought of his landlady, but it at least covered it in a dark shroud. *_Can't lose her_…_. Not yet.*_

"Mrs. Lovett!" he called angrily, subconsciously wondering if he would ever catch up with the seemingly crazy baker in the seemingly never-ending forest. He and Lucy never did anything this foolish when simply looking for a Christmas tree. In fact, they had never done anything this foolish at all, making him all the more annoyed at his landlady. "MRS. LOVETT , I SWEAR I WILL - GAH!" In the midst of his threats, Sweeney ran right into the back of none other than Mrs. Lovett herself, causing them both to fall onto the unforgiving ground.

"Oof! Watch it, ya big oaf!" she chuckled, standing and attempting to brush the dirt stains off her green dress. "Tsk tsk tsk, this one's new, it 'tis. Aw well, weh 'ad a laugh didn't weh?"

Sweeney, however, was far from any sort of laughter whatsoever. He simply stood and glared at his laughing landlady. "I fail to see the humor in this, Mrs. Lovett…" he snapped, brushing his black coat off roughly.

"Aw, come on, dearie, at least smile fo' once…" she jokingly replied, secretly pleading she could make him do so, even just one time. Had he evensmiled_ once _since his return? "I bet ya would look quite nice witha smile on yer face… certainly not as gloomy…"

"Mrs. Lovett, there is absolutely nothing to smile about in this black pit with such shitty people. I of all folks should know that…" he snarled in response, secretly wondering if the forest was too close to civilization to quickly slit her throat.

"Well I don' think _**I'm**_ _**tha'**_ bad…" Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes and gestured to a tree next to her. "Anyhow, I found it." She announced proudly.

"Found…wot?"

"My Chris'mas tree, Mista T! It's this one…It's perfect." She spread her arms out and jubilantly smiled as though the conifer were a trophy of some sort. _*Let's 'ope ya give us some nice memories…*_ She wordlessly told the fine-looking tree.

"Hm." Sweeney grunted, thankful that at least their search was finally over, but another problem dawned on him. "How are you going to cut it down, pet?" he smirked, thinking all this work went to complete waste.

"Wot, do ya think I'm daft?"

*_Yes…*_

" I brough' this," she said, lifting the top layer of her now dirtied dress to the side to reveal a small axe on a belt hidden on the bottom layer. The surprised barber noticed that was not the only deadly tool in the concealed belt. The axes' neighbors consisted of a pistol, dagger, and even a large butchering knife he could have sworn was the one on her kitchen counter just that morning. He never saw this belt before, and certainly never expected anything like it from Eleanor. _*Not a woman to be messed with…*_ he concluded.

"When did you-"

"Dearie, I've 'ad this belt since befoa ya were sent away." Mrs. Lovett smirked at his surprised face as she covered her weapon hold once more, straightening it out so well no one would ever guess the secret underneath it. She smugly stood with her axe in hand, finally ready to chop her little tree down.

"Mrs. Lovett…"

"Yes, darlin'?" she turned her gaze to his hauntingly beautiful face she fell in love with.

"You're a bloody wonder." Sweeney shook his head. Mrs. Lovett just smiled.


	4. Dec 1st night

**Hi guys!**

**Big thanks to EleKat, dionne dance, and CadyD for reviewing, you guys really do make the updating go a lot faster! Thank you so very much for making my day!**

**And I apologize for all the errors that went on with this chapter...just when it was getting good!**

**As promised this chapter is a lot longer than the last one, over double the amount of words as last time. HUZZAH! **

**Yes, I changed the aspect of Albert a bit. He is not the king of fat in this version, in fact he is so much worse. You'll read what I'm talking about. :)**

**And there is FLUFF AT THE END! I squealed just writing it! This is by far my favorite chapter.**

**Alright, I'll shut up now, here's chapter 4, enjoy!**

_**Frozen Air, Melting Heart**_

_**December 1**__**st**__** Evening**_

"_Oh Benjamin…it's so beautiful…" Lucy's eyes twinkled as she took in the sight of the recently furnished conifer. Her gaze turned to her Benjamin as he wrapped an arm around her tiny waist._

"_Not as beautiful as you, darling…" He whispered gingerly into her ear, sending a slight chill down her spine._

"_Oh, Benny!" she giggled, playfully shooing Ben's arm off her._

"_Mistah Barka'!" a voice beckoned from the dining room, "Mistah Barka'!" *Must be Mrs. Lovett calling for dinner…* Ben thought, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy for no apparent reason. "Mistah T!" Mrs. Lovett yelled._

_*Now why on earth is she calling me that?* he pondered, suddenly aware he was alone in the parlor…wait, not the parlor…the…forest?_

"**MISTAH TODD!"**

Sweeney blinked multiple times as he was literally shaken back into reality by a flustered looking baker. "MISTAH T-CAN YEH 'EAR ME?" she yelled in his face.

"OF COURSE I CAN HEAR YOU WOMAN, GET OFF ME!" Sweeney snapped back, shaking his head to rid his wonderful daydreams away for the time being.

"Well ya certainly couldn't 'ear me a few minutes ago, dearie…" Mrs. Lovett mumbled as she rubbed her now aching back. "Well…got me tree down…yeh ready to go, love?"

Sweeney stared at the large pine tree on the forest floor. Judging by thickness of the tree's trunk and the layer of sweat on Mrs. Lovett's forehead, it was not easy to cut it down. It didn't even occur to him to help the poor petite baker. _*NO! Not the guilt again, you don't care!* _Besides, there were probably plenty more things that were harder in everyday life for Mrs. Lovett to accomplish.

"Well Mistah T…?"

"Wot?"

"Do yah really expect meh to carry this thing all the way ta Fleet Street by meself?" Mrs. Lovett rested her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at Sweeney. "I may be strong, dearie, but I ain't _that_ strong… I'll need help. I won't ask ya anythin' else from ya, promise."

Sweeney only grunted in reply as he walked over to the tree and picked up it's trunk with incredible power. For a moment, all Mrs. Lovett could do was marvel at his breathtaking strength, no doubt gained in Australia. She sighed, suddenly dreaming of those muscular arms wrapping around her on the seashore watching the sun kiss the horizon before her.

"Mrs. Lovett."

Her fantasies quickly faded as she trotted over to the top of her Christmas tree and lifted with all her might, not paying any attention to the pine needles impaling her already roughed-up hands. "Got it!" she announced proudly as the tree lifted off the ground with ease. "This ain't so bad, is it?" she peeped over the branches to Sweeney.

"Anything you say, Mrs. Lovett…" he responded, sounding distant again. _*Bugger…*_ she thought, knowing her hopes of conversation with her beloved barber were once again crushed. She took a glance behind her to observe the sun fade into an orange color as it ever so slowly sank to the ground.

"Mrs. Lovett!" an annoyed grunt came from the other end of the tree.

"Oh, sorry love!" she called, realizing the distraction caused her to practically drop her end of the tree. Lifting once more, she took a deep breath and tried to enjoy the fact Sweeney was helping her at all.

"Oh Mistah T, it's just what I wanted! Thank ya!" the baker squeaked as she stepped back and observed the pine tree sitting quite nicely in the parlor corner, next to the now roaring fireplace. It was the perfect size, not too tall to reach the ceiling, but not too short to quite touch the top, either. It's lush green branches accented the parlor's wallpaper in a simply lovely fashion, and for some reason it made the entire room look a bit bigger.

Sweeney merely nodded at her thanks and stood quietly next to her. He looked down at his landlady and noticed that she had not stopped smiling since they had arrived back on Fleet Street. It took a considerable amount of work to get the blasted tree through the door and the kitchen and finally fit it into the parlor's corner…and Sweeney certainly did not appreciate the numerous looks they received from those walking past them along Fleet Street (He imagined slicing open their throats to calm him down a bit).

How a simple tree could make someone so happy, Sweeney guessed he would never understand. He continued to stare at Mrs. Lovett, as though his eyes were glued to her pale face, studying her deep chocolate eyes and fiery red curls that framed her delicate cheekbones. Then, as if snapping out of the tree's trance, Mrs. Lovett clapped her hands and took in a deep breath, bringing Sweeney out of his own daze.

"Well…I think some gin is in orda', eh Mistah Todd?" she whispered, smiling once more at Sweeney. "Be back in a tic, love." And with that, Mrs. Lovett was off to the kitchen, leaving a surprisingly contented Sweeney in the otherwise empty parlor. Contentment never lasted long, though…not in Sweeney's cold head.

He strolled over to the sofa and slowly sat down, letting his thoughts of the judge overcome him once again. If there was anything he wanted for Christmas, it was that filthy excuse of a human, Judge Turpin, at the mercy of one of his 'friends'. Oh, how he wanted to watch those wretched rubies slowly fall from that pig's throat, one by one, to see his face constrict in pain as he met his life's end and his the beginning of his journey into the deep depths of hell.

Yes, Judge Turpin as a Christmas present would do quite nicely.

" 'Ere we are… nice glass o' gin fo' ya, love…" Mrs. Lovett entered the parlor with two full glasses of the honey-colored liquid in her hands. She handed one to Sweeney and sat down next to him on the couch, a bit too close for Sweeney liking. However for some reason he didn't feel the urge to attempt to escape her pale figure leaning against his own. That core-warming feeling in the pit of his chest returned when she leaned her head against his shoulder. "Can I ask ya somethin' Mista T?"

_*Please…not another seaside rant…*_ he wanted to say, but instead just grunted "Hmmph…"

"Do yah rememba' what Albert was like on Christmas?" she spoke softly, as if she were afraid Albert would hear her.

"Wot do you mean, pet?" Sweeney automatically retorted, staring intently at the crackling fire's flames licking away at the firewood.

"I wos just wonderin'…if yah remembered wot he said…did…wot he was like…" she explained, then added in a barely audible voice, "I know I won't forget…"

However, Sweeney heard that last part loud and clear, and that was when everything about Albert came back to him.

Everything.

The bruises, burns, and scars.

The fake smiles.

The heart-breaking noises of a one-sided fight below Benjamin's rented room.

"_Ben… are you awake dear?" Lucy asked in a hushed tone, stroking Benjamin's arm that was firmly tucked around her waist as they lay in bed. The chilly midnight air gave the room an eerie feeling, along with the various noises of a fight coming from downstairs._

"_Yes, my love…" Benjamin whispered back, tightening his grip on Lucy, knowing exactly why she was awake. He was awake for the same reason._

"_Ben…do you hear-"_

"_Yes, love…I hear them…" he told her, protectively pulling her closer to him. "I'm afraid… there is nothing we can do." As if on cue, a shriek emitted from beneath the floorboards, followed by the sounds of shattering glass._

"_But Ben, Eleanor has done nothing wrong, she has been so good to us…we must do __**something**__…anything." Lucy whispered in a panicked tone._

"_Lucy, Albert is the one who owns this home…he could evict us in the middle of winter with practically no notice if we're not careful…Nellie is strong, Lucy…she is strong."_

"_But Ben," Lucy pleaded turning her body to look at her husband, "even Eleanor cannot stay strong forever. I see her __**cry**__, Ben, she hides her pain…when I try to talk to her she pretends there is nothing wrong…she even speaks of that horrible man as if he is a wonderful husband! Ben she is in pain!" Lucy was on the brink of tears now, knowing she only had a little taste of Albert's interactions with Eleanor._

"_Lucy, love…hush," Benjamin comforted her, looking deeply into her eyes, "I promise, once we have enough money we will leave this place and take Nellie with us." It was a stretch, but Ben knew he needed to repay the kindness Eleanor had shown them…if not for her, they would most likely still be searching for a place to stay._

"_But…but-" Lucy was interrupted by the all-too-familiar sounds of shouting and splintering wood. "Ben!" she snuggled into his chest, feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness. _

"_It's alright my love…it will be alright…" Ben said, stroking her yellow locks of hair as he closed his eyes, praying for the events occurring downstairs to cease. "It will be alright…"_

_But he knew Nellie would never be alright._

He took a few minutes to process these memories, for once thinking of Mrs. Lovett instead of Lucy. Albert was much worse during Christmas, so much so that Sweeney remembered everything all too clearly. Nothing was perfect enough for Albert…_ever._ Sweeney realized how much he hated Albert. Almost as much as the filthy judge. They were both all too similar. It was then he realized just how much pain and suffering she had experienced over the years. She was scarred forever. Just like him.

He opened his mouth to ask Mrs. Lovett what had brought the topic of Albert about, and why she had asked if he remembered in the first place, but he quickly closed it when he noticed her closed eyes and curled up snuggled form practically laying on his side, her wild red locks contrasting against his pasty white shirt.

She had fallen asleep against him in the warmth and comfort of his presence. _*I should be disgusted…* _Sweeney told himself, finding it impossible to be repulsed at the curled up baker beside him. Her face was so relaxed when she slept; she seemed so peaceful and content. Sweeney brushed a stray lock from her face, silently admiring her unique facial features highlighted by the flickering light of the fire. Those long eyelashes, curved lips, and small nose seemed to all live in harmony on her round face. She really was a sight, Sweeney just never really took the time to notice until now.

Wait…Mrs. Lovett...His landlady, beautiful? Lucy was beautiful. Mrs. Lovett was …Mrs. Lovett. Once that thought crossed his mind, a nagging feeling overcame him, as if he needed to get something off his shoulders.

_*Must be the gin…*_ he concluded, keeping his gaze on her.

No thoughts of the judge crossed his mind. The constant harassing of Lucy or Johanna no longer plagued his mind. In fact, all of London seemed to melt away. It was only him and his landlady. He felt the corners of his lips twitch upward when the baker let out a very unlady-like snore. _*Only you, Mrs. Lovett…* _he silently told her, allowing a smile to finally crack across his face. He hadn't smiled in over 15 years. Sure, there was the chiseled grin he mustered up for his good-as-dead customers, but it was merely an act. This was genuine smile. It felt…good.

After staring at the baker for a few more moments, Sweeney felt his own eyelids begin to close, so he simply put his arm around Mrs. Lovett and pulled her closer into him for warmth. Without thinking twice, he buried his face in her blazing red curls and inhaled deeply as sleep began to overcome him. Her scent reminded him of the vases of daisies she insisted on setting on the customers tables.

A last thought crossed his mind before finally drifting off. _*Perhaps it __isn't__ the gin after all…*_


	5. Dec 2nd Morning

_**Frozen Air, Melting heart **_

_**December 2**__**nd**__** Morning**_

_He was back. He was back to haunt her again._

As if thememories during the day weren't enough, Mrs. Lovett was being forced to relive the horrors of her past years these during the danger of the lonely, dark night.

_She was sitting in the booth looking out the window, just as she always did in these dreams, waiting for Sweeney to come down for their glass of gin routine. She was unaware of the danger about to befall her… she had no idea the man who plagued her night and day was literally just around the corner. Although she felt an overwhelming sense of trouble, he chose to believe it was another "normal" day on Fleet Street. No matter how foolish, she chose to look on the bright side…_

_The sound of creaking floorboards came from her left, just as they always did when Sweeney came down at night. She stood and opened the door for him, letting the bell jingle echo off the walls. An unfamiliar dark outline of a man just stood there, unmoving in the doorway for a few tense seconds. "M-Mistah…Mistah T?" Mrs. Lovett choked out, taking a few steps back. She knew Mr. Todd like no other, from every feature on his body to the dark, inner things he hid deep inside of himself. If you asked her to draw his silhouette, she would do it with impeccable accuracy. _

_So when she saw the shadow that came down from Sweeney's parlor, she panicked. This was certainly not Sweeney, this was a man much burlier, and much more intimidating than her Mr. Todd. The dark shroud stepped forward into the dim light of the nearby lit candles. "By Mr. Todd I suspect you mean that bastard Barker…"_

"_A-Albert?" the now shaking baker stammered, unable to convince herself that what she was seeing was real. It was Albert, as big and strong as ever. She looked him up and down, not believing her eyes: Albert alive in her very kitchen. _

"_Where is he, Ellie? Huh? Where is he?" Albert stepped closer to Mrs. Lovett as she shivered at his pet name-the one that meant she was in trouble. Big trouble._

"_Wot-'ow are you…'ow are you-" she stuttered, backing as far as she could before feeling her back press against a wall._

"_ALIVE Ellie? Why are you so shocked?" He was in front of her now, fists clenching. He was so close she could feel his angry breath on her forehead. "Because you thought you KILLED ME?" he spat. Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened as her heart practically skipped a beat. "Oh I __know__ you did it…I __know__ you poisoned that pie, Ellie…whatever could have caused you to make __that__ decision?"_

"_I-I…" Mrs. Lovett felt helpless as she tried to melt into the wall, anything, as long as it was away from __**him**__. _

"_Goddammit, speak you bitch!" Albert roared as he slammed his fist into the wall centimeters away from her face._

_The baker was breathing so fast it felt as though she weren't breathing at all, her corset only tightening her already constricting chest. This man could kill her without a second thought. She needed to find her voice, she needed help, and for once she was willing to accept it. She thought of Toby, who needed a strong mother and role model, and she thought of Mr. Todd. Even if he never admitted it, she knew he needed her, she couldn't let Albert take away what her Toby and Mr. Todd needed. _

"_God, you're so useless, just SPEAK!" he bellowed again, slapping her across the face with such force she fell to the ground._

"_BECAUSE YOU KILLED MY CHILD!" Mrs. Lovett screamed furiously at him. _

"_I TOLD you I never wanted little __brats __in my life! You should have listened wench!" Another blow to the face. "I thought you would have finally learned that when I made sure the authorities took the pathetic Barkers revolting child!" _

_*Johanna…Lucy…Benjamin…Benjamin…Sweeney…Mistah T!*_

"_**MISTAH TODD**__!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs in hopes of help. She stumbled towards the door to her precious barber. "__**MISTAH T! 'ELP! MISTAH T!" **__ Suddenly Mrs. Lovett was on the floor again, feeling the familiar boot collide with her middle, over and over again._

"_It's yer turn to die now, Ellie…"_

"_**MISTAH T! MISTAH TODD 'ELP**__!" _

"_No use, Ellie…I took care of 'im already."_

"_NO! MISTA T!" the baker was sobbing now, lying broken on the floor. *He can't be dead…not Mistah T…no no no !* "SWEENEY!"_

"_If you wanted to see 'im so much, Ellie, yeh should 'ave just asked…" Albert hissed as his brawny hands clamped around Mrs. Lovett's neck. She immediately felt a numbing sensation in her limbs, frozen with fear. His cold eyes pierced hers as she attempted to scream. She struggled, but it was futile as the painful burning sensation only increased. The last thing she saw before her vision blurred was the blood seeping through the wood on the ceiling, in the exact place where Sweeney paced at night._

_*No…Sweeney…*_

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Sweeney opened his eyes, he assumed he fell asleep brooding in his barber chair. His eyes shifted from the sofa to the fireplace, to the tree, and finally to the trembling baker curled up under his arm, still asleep. _*Wot in the bloody-* _All at once the events of last night flooded into his mind, ending with the scent of daisies that lingered in his dreams that night. For the first time since his imprisonment Sweeney Todd slept with the absence of nightmares.

Mrs. Lovett, however, was not so lucky this morning. The barber's eyebrows furrowed, studying the unusual state the whimpering baker was in as she grasped at his arm that was around her waist. Sweeney didn't exactly know what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good. Something was wrong. His charcoal eyes watched her lips mouth his name over and over again, along with what he could decipher as 'no' and 'help'. Yes, something was _very _wrong.

"Mrs. Lovett…Mrs. Lovett…" he softly coaxed, genuinely worried about her… _*I'm…worried? This is new…*_ he sighed, giving up on controlling his relatively new emotions...at least while no one was around to witness them. "Mrs. Lovett, wake up." He tried again, firmly this time whilst shaking her shoulders. He uncharacteristically gnawed at his lower lip when his attempt failed. It was not pleasant to watch her shiver and whine in obvious pain. He didn't know what step to take next. He couldn't exactly get up with her body practically on top of his… "Pet, wake up…" he tried once more, lightly patting her tear streaked cheeks. "Wake up pet…"

This time, Mrs. Lovett shuffled into a tighter position, mumbling, "Mistah T…can't die…Sweeney, no…"

_*Wot the bloody HELL?*_

His landlady shook violently, clutching at Sweeney as if asking him for help. "Mrs. Lovett, pet, wake up…" he shook her again, before yelling, "Nellie!" in her face.

"Aaaaaahhhh!" the baker half-screamed half-sobbed as she jerked back onto the other half of the sofa in a panic. Her chest was heaving and her forehead was covered in a sweat. Her eyes were full of unshed tears and she couldn't stop her body from shivering. She stared wide eyed at her equally surprised Mr. Todd at the other end of the couch. Sweeney's eyebrows furrowed once more.

One minute passed, then two, then three. Finally the barber slowly stood up and approached fearful Mrs. Lovett with caution. "Nellie…?" he asked warily, not sure why he was still using her first name. The wide eyed baker simply lost it and burst into fresh tears, burying her face in her hands. Sweeney just stood there, not quite knowing what to do.

Suddenly Toby burst into the room with an alarmed look upon his face. "Wot's wrong, mum?" he asked, looking from his adoptive mother to Sweeney. "Wot did you do?" he asked accusingly.

_*That __boy__…* _Sweeney grimaced. He was about to make a sly comeback when Mrs. Lovett interrupted him.

"It's…it's nothin', dearie, jus'…jus' start the shop, please?" she whispered through tears.

"But mum-" he began arguing.

"Please, Toby?" the baker asked desperately.

Toby simply nodded and gave Sweeney a _"You better not do anything"_ look before scampering off to open the pie shop.

Once the two were alone, Mrs. Lovett took a deep breath and looked at Sweeney, who was now sitting in front of her with…_concern _swirling in his deep dark eyes. She laughed nervously and did her best to wipe her tears away. "I'm…I'm sorry love…it's jus'…it's ova' now, though…"

But Sweeney could see it was _far_ from over. "Wot did you dream?" he asked in monotone.

"I…he…an' you…oh 'ell it was 'orrible, Mistah T, I don't evah want ta sleep again!" she admitted curling into a weeping mess once more. Sweeney looked at the ground intently, as if it would tell him what to do to help fix this problem. _* If you just kept indifferent…*_ But he knew he really couldn't even if he wanted to. Not now, anyway.

What did he do when Lucy had nightmares? Did Lucy ever have any nightmares? _*Oh no…* _Could he be forgetting his angelic wife already? _*No…no…just…just think of Lucy…think of Lucy….only Lucy…*_ Flashes of icy blue eyes and long flowing yellow hair danced across his vision, with nothing else. For perhaps the first time in his life: Sweeney Todd didn't mind it. He realized right now it was about Mrs. Lovett. Not Lucy, not revenge: Mrs. Lovett. The woman who inviting him in without a second thought and took care of him even when he didn't need it. Now she was the one who needed care, and it was Sweeney's responsibility to give it to her.

"Mrs. Lovett, please-" he tried carefully, kneeling down next to her.

"Why can't 'e jus' leave me _alone_?" the baker squeaked to no one in particular, another sob rattling through her body. Her chest heaved up and down at an alarming rate, and waterfalls of tears began to stream down her face.

"Nellie, calm down-"

"An' 'ow did 'e know? I only did it ta protect the child I would nevah 'ave!"

"Nellie-just breathe."

"I can't close me eyes without seein' 'im, Mistah T!"

"Nellie-you need to breathe!" Sweeney took the baker's hand and looked her straight in the eyes. "Nellie…breathe…" he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Mrs. Lovett looked at her beloved tenant in bewilderment. For once he was there when she needed him most. And he was calling her by her first name, he hadn't called her 'Nellie' since the day he was sent to Australia. Her breathing slowed, but the tears didn't stop. "Nellie, wot happened?" Sweeney whispered.

"Sweeney," she whimpered, suddenly launching herself into his sturdy arms. He realized this was the first time she had ever called him by his first name before._*Something is very VERY wrong…* _he concluded, wrapping his arms around the baker's shaking frame.


	6. Dec 2nd Midday

**Big thanks to all the reviewers, you guys really do inspire me!**

**I know this one is a bit short, but I couldn't resist a cliffhanger!**

**Please enjoy!**

_**Frozen Air, Melting Heart**_

_**December 2**__**nd**__** Midday**_

The barber and the baker sat together in the booth drinking gin in silence. Mrs. Lovett had calmed down a little while ago, and things seemed to wind down a bit. It was a slow day in the shops, and both Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett were secretly thankful for it.

So, here they sat. Sweeney stared at Mrs. Lovett, and Mrs. Lovett stared into her gin, as if it could grant her the peace she so desired. Sweeney contemplated how to fix this situation as he studied the baker's glossed – over eyes. He had held her for what felt like forever on the parlor floor, saving her from a full-on panic attack with soft words and a comforting embrace. Although he would never admit it, Sweeney didn't mind being so close to Mrs. Lovett. In fact, he almost enjoyed it. Almost.

Now his landlady just sat there in silence, which was incredibly abnormal for her chatty self, and anxiously tapped her fingers on the table. Sweeney never really got her to confess the dream that caused her to panic like that, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Nellie…?" he asked softly.

"Why are yeh callin' me tha', Mistah T?" the baker made eye contact and cocked her head to the side.

"I…I don't know…" Sweeney replied honestly. "If you are uncomfortable with it –"

"No!" she interrupted, a sparkle finally shining in her eye again. "I mean…there's nothin' wrong wit it…I missed it. Please, feel free to call meh Nellie." Sweeney could hear the hidden plead in her voice, and tried to keep himself from smiling again.

"Nellie…" he began again, looking her straight in the eyes. "Wot did you dream about." He said rather than asked.

Mrs. Lovett inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Albert…" she choked, as if the word itself was simply disgusting.

"Wot happened?"

" 'E…'e killed yah…and then he killed me…" she explained in a whisper. Sweeney was a surprised by this answer, surprised Albert would have the strength and stamina to kill Sweeney Todd. Then again, it wasn't real. Albert was dead.

The barber suddenly recalled what Mrs. Lovett had blurted out during her panic attack a few hours ago. "Wot child?"

"Wot?"

"Wot child you would never have…wot did Albert know?" Sweeney asked, staring at her intently. Mrs. Lovett looked up at the barber again and slowly shook her head.

"I killed 'im…I murdered me Albert…" Sweeney was completely taken aback by this answer, and automatically wanted to reach for Nellie's hand.

"Why?" he whispered.

" 'E killed Ginger…" she replied in monotone, staring into her drink again. Sweeney opened his mouth to ask who the Hell Ginger was, but Mrs. Lovett saved him the trouble, "Ginger was me unborn little girl…Albert never wanted children," she chuckled nervously. " 'E's actually the one who called the Judge for little Johanna. I tried to stop them-I really did Mistah T, - but them authorities would 'ave none of that." She uncovered the sleeve of her dress and tapped on a small scar that went up the side of her left arm. "Albert wasn't 'appy that I tried to keep Johanna at all costs…I'm so sorry Mistah T…I tried…even afta' they took 'er. I kept fighting. Got me nowhere, though…" she then quietly added, "Nowhere but a locked dresser…"

Sweeney was full on shocked now. She had fought and risked her life for _his_ child. Her life was Hell in the first place, and Turpin only deepened her pain. He felt a new hatred towards that filthy pig…he was definitely going to get it now.

And Ginger? Mrs. Lovett was going to be a mother, and Albert took that away from her. "How did he kill your child? Wot did you do to kill him?" he asked, studying the pain on her features.

"Me little Ginger was two months in when 'e took a rollin' pin to me stomach…" she managed to keep her unshed tears from falling. "It 'urt, but not as much as it hurt to see me little girls blood all ovah the floor…" her bottom lip quivered as she continued, still staring into her glass, "So… afta' 'e decided I 'ad enough for one day, the bastard told me to make his dinnah." Her eyes filled with hatred as her hands clamped into fists. "So I made 'im tea and a pie." She chuckled darkly. "Tha' pie was filled to the crust with arsenic…the last word's 'e said to me were 'this tastes like shit, Ellie..' " Mrs. Lovett was half laughing half crying now, breaking down fast.

"Nellie," Sweeney grasped her hand, "Nellie look at me." He lifted her chin to force eye contact and looked sorrowfully into her teary chocolate orbs. "You did not deserve this…Albert deserved to die. You did the right thing…" _*Good riddance…*_ his mind spat. _*Such disgusting filth in this black pit...*_

The baker shook her head sadly and held Sweeney's hand that was cupping her cheek. "I shoulda' done it befoa I lost Ginger…and Johanna. I'm sorry, Mistah T. I'm sorry."

"NO." Sweeney said firmly, not taking his dark eyes off hers. "Do not be sorry for what that monster did. He deserves to rot in Hell forever…do you understand?"

"Yes." The baker whispered, slowly melting into Sweeney's touch. They just sat there for what seemed like hours, staring at each other, daring to try and find the other one's soul. Both seemed to be unaware they were growing closer to each other with every passing second. Before they knew it, they were a mere few inches apart.

"Mistah T-"

"Shh, pet," Sweeney whispered, planting his finger on her soft lips. Lips that he greedily met with his within a split second.

**Squee for flufffff!**

**Reviews = Love!**


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